Say Something
by Angelic Reprobate
Summary: "Hermione had told herself from the beginning that the Greater Good would all be worth it, that no matter what horrors and torment she faced, the ends justified the means. But, she hadn't really known what she was getting into." More hurt, less comfort and very little of both anyway.


**Say Something**

**Pairing: Voldemort/Hermione  
>-I don't own Harry Potter<br>-I don't own Say Something**

**This is pretty AU from like Book Five On**

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><p><em>Say something, I'm giving up on you<br>And I'm sorry that I couldn't get to you  
>-A Great Big World<em>

When the Order had asked her to walk into the snakes den Harry and Ron had raged. She was a muggleborn, they protested. They would kill her, they screamed. Dumbledore, the man who had known Tom Riddle for longer than anyone else lucky enough to be alive, disagreed. He had said that as long as she went directly to Voldemort she'd be safe. He calmly told them all that Voldemort would value her brain over her blood.

He had been right.

Hermione had been shaking with fear the moment she felt his magic swirling around her. That fear increased tenfold when she turned and saw him relaxed on an armchair. His features were beyond human. His eyes the colour of blood and his skin so translucent she swore she saw bone.

He had looked her up and down. He had pointed her to the chair opposite him. He hadn't even made eye contact with her but she felt as if in a single moment, he knew her entire life.

He had guessed immediately that she had been sent by the Order. She hadn't bothered denying it. He had said she must think him stupid to have attempted to infiltrate his 'organisation'. She had kept silent, her eyes focused on where his nose should have been. He had stood and told her they might as well get the whole charade over with. After all, he'd said mockingly, it would be such a shock to the Order if their ill-conceived plan failed.

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><p>Hermione lived with Voldemort for three months before she was allowed out of the area of Malfoy Manor he had sequestered for his private use. She had been disguised and he'd made her attend one of the meetings. It would have been a shame, he'd taunted, if she was unable to report anything to the Order other than that he read muggle classics and preferred milk in his tea.<p>

She vomited afterwards, something she hadn't done since her second year after being un-petrified. Not even when she'd seen Cedric's corpse or seen Harry's hand after Umbridge and her barbaric detentions. Seeing a boy she had known in Hogwarts raise his wand and speak two words that could never be taken back had shaken her to her core. She was surprised to find a warm hand on her back and another holding her hair away from her face. Hermione was just as surprised at the physical warmth as she was with the support.

Two nights later in her room he asked if she could see threstrals. She had almost spilt her hot chocolate over one of his generously loaned books. They had been reading like this for the past two weeks but never before had he said anything until he wished her goodnight. She had shaken her head then laughed and told him she'd ridden on one before though. It had been the most terrifying experience of her life. It wouldn't be until much later when she was tucked up in bed alone that Hermione would realise she had handed him a weapon.

A month and a half after that night he'd begun her flying lessons. Voldemort firmly believed that a fear of flying, especially as she had no fear of heights, was ridiculous. He had taught her the proper technique to riding a broomstick. He had taught her to fly unsupported once she had mastered the broom. Then he had promptly pushed her off the tower laughing manically when she managed to not get herself killed just five feet above the ground.

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><p>Hermione found that every moment she spent alone with Voldemort provided her with more information than it did the Order. She knew he had a habit of tapping his index finger three times against a book spine when he had decided what he wanted to read. She knew that when he concentrated he opened his mouth just enough to reveal unnaturally straight teeth. She knew he liked watching her play with her hair.<p>

She lived with him for a year before everything fell apart. He yanked her from her dreams. His wand waved around her form turning her hair jet black, elongating her face and cladding her body in billowing robes. The Ministry was attacking, he had told her, as an explosion rocked the manor.

He dragged her along the corridor, unnaturally deserted by the portraits of the Malfoy family. He dragged her towards the main hall as she gripped her wand tight. If the Ministry intended to kill _her,_ she would go down with a fight.

Seeing him in thick of the fight took her breath away even as she cast relatively harmless hex after hex. She could feel the hairs on the nape of her neck stand up and her spine tingle as his magic engulfed the room. He was intoxicating to simply be near. In that moment Hermione understood the fanatic looks Bellatrix would shoot his way.

And then… the moment was shattered.

He unleashed a spell that struck down every ministry official. In the solitary second before they died, Hermione saw a lifetime of pain and anguish in their eyes. In the solitary second before they died, she saw them begging for death. In the solitary second before they died, Hermione Granger saw every one of them reach for death's comforting arms.

Her eyes met his. Cold and haughty, he looked at her with pride dancing on his barely there lips. Every lie she had told herself to reconcile the thrill that shot through her body when he gave her a new book or praised her mastery of a spell vanished. Finally she saw what Harry and Dumbledore, and countless others, had seen; a ruthless monster.

Hermione had told herself from the beginning that the Greater Good would all be worth it, that no matter what horrors and torment she faced, the ends justified the means. But, she hadn't really known what she was getting into. He had wrenched her heart from her chest and suddenly she felt like a child. She needed him to justify what he had done, to say anything. Any lie would do; that there were too many to not have killed them all, that he didn't want to risk the lives of his followers, that if he hadn't killed them they would have ruined the carpet. Anything!

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><p>They stood alone in the new safe house. Neither had spoken and the silence buzzed in her ears.<p>

"Say something!"

Her voice sounded raw as if she had cried all the tears building up in her head.

He stepped towards her until she was tilting her head up to meet her eyes. She knew that he had seen in her mind what she wanted to hear. He knew he need only say a word and she would give up every pathetic ideal she currently clung to, for him.

He turned away from her. His eyes stared into the blossoming fire and in a breath of wind and violent_CRACK!_ she was gone.

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><p><strong>AN: Yeah, so this happened. I don't know, I stayed up all night, I was on tumblr, someone mentioned this song, I was in a shippy mood.**

**I feel like Hermione and Voldemort are ever so slightly OOC here but this was written in the moment. It was passionate and that that jazz. I just kinda love the idea that they become so close and fall in, well, something, without realising it. And then, when he realises he can have her, he just lets her go.**

**I love the idea that the song speaks to both of them like that. They both kind of give up on being together.**

**If you read my Bleach fic, I haven't forgotten about you I'm just currently doing my exams and shouldn't have even written this.**

**Anyway, please review and whilst I'm not really planning on doing this story the way I'm doing my other song ficlets, if you suggest a song I will be happy to give it a shot.**


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